my summer hero
by another moment gone
Summary: it was not a something that changed me this summer, it was a someone. and you know exactly who. /one-shot. *R&R* -another moment gone-


my summer hero

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><p>-;-<p>

summer had its perks.

the sky always seemed to be bluer in the summer, the ocean a little warmer, the people a lot tanner, the rain-showers just a little bit more beautiful, and the clouds slightly more puffier than the spring's time.

every summer seemed to hold a fair amount of expectations—to get a little more tan, go to bed _before_ insomniac hours, go for a two mile run at least four times during the week—but each and every summer was a shift in minor changes.

you know that better than anyone, don't you?

no one asked me to write a three-thousand word essay about what changed me over the summer, not even my latest crazy English teacher—'cause they're crazy: each and every one of them. not even my parents needed to give me the slight not-so-gentle push to write about something that's changed me this summer.

i'm doing this all on my own. (and it's not something that changed me, it's some**one** that changed me this summer.)

and you know exactly who.

every summer, the clouds would roll closely to the ground, allowing the smallest of crevices of azure to peak through, the rain slipped smoothly along a freshly dewed hydrangea, and every summer: you came along for the ride.

you and your red cap with the flat brim and the off-white _P_ threaded on meticulously. you danced into my house with those solemn eyes that seemed to mock me closely: i'm beautiful and i don't even know it—but _you_ know it, don't you?

you shuffled into my kitchen with your hands loosely fit into your pockets, your jeans sagging with the ripped holes in the knees. (did you buy them ripped? _no_.)

i see it now, you'd lean against the wooden boarder of the door and you'd perch yourself with this devious smirk that happened to be kind of alluring. (_kind of_? very.)

i'd tag along for a three minute ride, the breeze whipping my hair around and the windows and the possibility of your gaze landing on me.

(we'd sail across the ocean if we could, wouldn't we?) the sun beat down on us with a dead-pan of spreading the warmth. the rays refracted and your eyes became a brilliant, youthful gem-green. (they've always reminded me of the kind of emerald you can't replicate with any paint. original.)

you'd smile and tilt your head back, the boat would hike and your sea-glass orbs would widen with sudden surprise, and i'd laughing along with the appreciation that brightened your smile.

(you really knew what you were doing, didn't you?) remember when i ran from you? you chased me around the boat, prepared to throw me overboard into a sea filled of sunshine. (please don't throw me in. _maybe i will._)

(_are you ticklish? _no.) you'd reach your piano-like fingers over and tickle me until i were begging for mercy. (are _you_ ticklish? _no_.) as it turned out, after a fitful of giggles and bright grins, you weren't ticklish.

you wore that hat everywhere, it puzzles me. but i mean, it _does_ suit you. (_give me back my hat!_ nope, not until you tell me your middle name. _no way_.)

it fit snug on my head after a few very minor adjusts. i'd try every direction, backwards, sideways to the left, sideways to the right, forward. (i always thought i looked pretty badass with it backwards.) you'd roll your eyes when you saw it perched on my head and i'd sit on it when you tried to take it back. (_please?_ no way.)

perhaps we're fickle; all made up in my imagination. (are you a crazy person? _i am…secretly._) i fear the details will give me away; the anonymity of the mask i've carved and the image i have spit up.

the feeling when you put your arms on my shoulders, or against my hand to compare hand-sizes, that feeling… it doesn't go away—doesn't fade like the stars do if you scrutinize them for too long. and the possibility practically kills me.

but we're young and we've got all the time in the world, don't we?

across an oak-table, faces swimming around each of us, a restaurant full of beady stares. the yells of an order being filled, the pounding of the rain as it beats down on the ceiling. the small-talk at other tables, the laughter at our own. i guess i only see you. (_guess_? i know.) you smile at me and immediately, i am utterly yours. our gaze locks and i try to break free but i _just _**can't.**

one look from you and i am reduced to putty in your strong hands.

i'm not one to scribble our initials on the sand with my toes, or messily write our names together on a binder with a heart surrounding our names. i find that juvenile. but i'm guilty when it comes to writing about you. (or to you.)

so if someone were to ask me what changed me this summer, i would tell them that it wasn't a something changed me, it was a _you_ that changed me. altered my views in the slightest ways, shifted my smiles, raised my hope.

summer had its perks, but i would say you brought it full circle.

(i'd get an A on this assignment. _I bet_.)

-;-

Review?

(one-shot)

-another moment gone-


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